


My Many Colored Days

by anne_ammons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Last Drabble Writer Standing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:09:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29848929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anne_ammons/pseuds/anne_ammons
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for Rare Pair LDWS - each round featured a different pairing, a color, and/or its meaning to use in whatever way the author chose.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Ron Weasley, Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley, Luna Lovegood & Ginny Weasley, Pandora Lovegood/Molly Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Percy Weasley, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter
Kudos: 2





	1. Warm Up - Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley - Red/Passion

**Author's Note:**

> Oh what fun this round of LDWS was! This time we had Rare Pairs and colors to work with. Mind the tags on each chapter.

> Title: Piaoliang  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 249 out of 250  
> Warnings: N/A

Hermione stood at the edge of the enclosure, watching in awe as the young Chinese Fireball flexed her wings. Her multi-colored scales sparkled in the sunlight. There were too many shades of red to name: scarlet, brick, maroon and vermillion, each color layered on the next. It was no wonder that Chinese Fireballs had been almost hunted to extinction for their hide and eggs, both prized by wizards with more Galleons than sense.

Charlie had pushed Hermione to come to the sanctuary to see the dragons up close, so she could understand why her work on dragon habitats was vitally important. She’d accepted, although she’d also wondered if seeing Charlie away from the Burrow and the rest of his family might help clear her head of the confusing thoughts that swirled around every time she saw him.

She had been close to dragons before. She had even ridden on one, but it had been nothing like this. She couldn’t help but be amazed as Charlie strolled over to the gate with the preening dragon perched on his arm.

“What’s her name?” she asked.

Charlie answered with a crooked grin that made her insides melt.

“Piaoliang.”

Hermione tilted her head. “Mandarin. What does it mean?”

“Beautiful.” He paused, his eyes locking with hers. “I named her after you.”

Hermione’s cheeks turned their own shade of red, blending right in with the young dragon’s scales, but if Charlie was open to research of a more personal nature, she was definitely amenable.


	2. Week 1 - Theodore Nott/Harry Potter - Blue/Calm

> Title: Bygones  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 398 of 400  
> Warnings: N/A

“What a gorgeous child.”

He stopped in the middle of Diagon Alley and peered down at the sleeping baby who sported an unmistakable shock of black hair.

He’d been inside Mulpepper’s Apothecary sorting through the billywig stings when a flash of red in the alley drew his eye. He darted outside, leaving the jar open on the counter, wanting to see for himself the spawn of the Chosen One. He knew it was coming — the entire Wizarding world had fêted the arrival of this babe, a sure sign that fairy tales came true, after all.

Well, at least for some they did.

“Thank you, Nott.” The child’s mother, Ginevra _Potter_ , smiled proudly, but her smile was tight and he knew there was much more to her response than either of them would acknowledge.

Her eyes said more, though. They were eyes that both knew his secrets and held them as her own.

He was used to cool greetings. His last name spoke to parentage that was less than desirable, even though his own actions had been above reproach. Still, he found himself on the receiving end of behavior that spoke far more to the manners of others than his own.

This, however, was not a simple case of prejudice. The child in front of him spoke to that.

After all, that had been what came between them in the end — the only thing Theo couldn’t give Harry, no matter how much he wanted; and no option seemed to be enough, save the one.

Family was everything to Harry, after all. Theo could see him chasing after the illusion of what he thought his parents had with every step that moved him further away from what they had. From what they were to each other.

Ginevra started to walk off, but he placed a hand on the basket and stopped her, not yet done examining the reason for his undoing.

His breath caught as the sleeping infant woke and peered up at him. He half-expected to see green eyes stare back at him with a familiar intensity.

Instead, the baby had his mother’s eyes, baby blue, just like Theo’s, instead of piercing green.

Disappointed, Theo released the carriage and stepped back.

“Thank you.” He put all the sincerity he could into his next words. “Give my best to Harry.”

Both, however, knew full well she’d do no such thing.


	3. Week 2 - Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini - Green/Jealousy

> Title: A Love Story in Three Parts  
> Rating: M  
> Word Count: 445 of 450  
> Warnings: Infidelity

I.

Of all the dreams I could live to dream,  
No dream exists that is as lovely as you.

Of all the fruits I could live to taste,  
Yours is the only taste I swear I’ll never forget.

And yet,  
You twirl in his arms instead of mine.  
And sleep in his bed.

While I make do with scraps, the memory of a kiss, a lingering look.  
A unfulfilled hope for more.

I’m left to sustain myself on memories.  
Soft fingertips and freckles and a curtain of fire that surrounds us.

Prompting you, goading you, pleading with you to say my name.  
Knowing that for you, I served a purpose.  
He left you, and you didn’t want to feel alone.

But for me, you branded my very soul.  
Changed my alignment.  
And made it so nothing would ever be the same again.

Does he make you feel the way I did?  
Does he know the things we’ve done?

I know I’m not the hero, but nor am I the villain.  
And all I wish is to love and cherish you like the goddess that you are.

While all I can do is watch you from afar.  
And offer hollow smiles to the man standing next to you.

II.

If it was hard before, it has now become excruciating.  
You return to me, chasing something.  
Even while wearing his ring.

Do you burn the way I do?

The stolen moments are made all the sweeter by the fact that you cry my name.  
Each stroke a shoring of my ramparts that this… us… is real, and the other the illusion.

But the mornings tell a different story.  
Cold sheets and colder showers bear witness to my self-delusion.

Am I so tormented that I have not an ounce of self-respect left?  
Where you’re concerned, no.  
I lost that ability a long time ago.

But still, I hope you might find your way free.  
I wait for you to return to me.

Instead, the gentle swell of your belly and the ripening of your breasts tell a different tale.  
Perhaps I know your body better than you know yourself, and my eyes do not deceive.

I would even raise the bastard’s child, if only it meant you’d be by my side.

III.

Your heart breaks now, my sweet, but I promise it will not ache for long.  
I am here to ease your pain. To fill your empty places.

But there are things of which I cannot speak.  
Deeds that I will carry with me to the grave.

All for you, my love, all for you.  
Come, let me remind you of what we were and shall be.


	4. Week 3 - Pansy Parkinson/Percy Weasley - Grey/Complexity

> Title: Priorities  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A

Percy Weasley was a busy man. He might not yet be an important man, but he was well on his way. Already, he had a condo in Manhattan and a demanding job to pay for said condo. He didn’t have time for frivolities like dating. But then, everyone had an itch that needed to be scratched from time to time. He stared at his phone for a moment before opening the app.

No strings attached. That was what he wanted; a chance to unwind for a night, find someone with which to satisfy his carnal urges, and still leave early enough to meet his trainer the following morning.

He idly scrolled through the profiles, waiting for someone to catch his eye. One could tell a lot by what someone included in their profile, what they were looking for out of life, if they had goals and plans.

Of course, photos didn’t tell the whole story, but then again, he knew that he himself had used a filter to reduce the number of freckles that showed and to tone down his flaming red hair. Red-headed men were 16% less likely to attract interest, so in his profile pic, he was decidedly more of a strawberry blond.

The color of his hair didn’t matter much when the lights were low, anyway.

As if on cue, the phone rang, interrupting his perusal of a promising profile.

_Molly Weasley_. He must have conjured his mother through his disdain for the family traits.

He hit the Dismiss button instantly. All she’d want to know was when he was coming to visit and why he couldn’t seem to settle down like his brothers. It was the same thing every time. The fact was, Percy was nothing like his brothers, which was why he had left home at the earliest possible opportunity and hadn’t looked back, except for the occasional obligatory visits for weddings and Christmas.

He scrolled a bit longer before landing on a profile that piqued his interest. Her picture was, for lack of a better term, cute. Not that she was juvenile, but she had a tiny upturned nose and sported a shiny, black bob and bright red lips that would look spectacular wrapped around his cock.

He turned to her profile.

Pansy.

What an unfortunate name. He wasn’t desperate enough for someone vacuous. He needed some conversation during the encounter to really get what he wanted. Still, those perfectly pouty lips called to him.

Last meal: Dim Sum at Nom Wah  
Last book I read: Reminiscences of a Stock Operator  
Where I’m headed next: Maldives - maybe you’ll come with?

He instantly sat up. Oh, there was depth here that he could work with. He didn’t hesitate to tap the blue star. He wasn’t interested in wasting time. So much in life was complicated, but this didn’t need to be. He hoped she felt the same. When the screen showed they’d matched, he decided to swing for the fence.

_Hey there. Netflix and chill?_


	5. Week 4 - Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter - Orange/Creativity

> Title: Forbidden Fruit  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 97 of 100  
> Warnings: N/A

Treacle tart. Storm clouds. Broom polish.

If the first two could have been anyone, the last left no doubt.

Not that she was surprised. Daphne cut a glance across the room, wondering what _he_ might smell in his own cauldron.

It was mad, but Daphne found she loved both the thrill and the boy.

She was addicted to something completely forbidden. What a scandal it would be if anyone found out!

Later, hidden in a classroom, she wondered aloud.

Harry kissed her again, making real the world that was just theirs.

“Do you even need to ask?”


	6. Week 5 - Ginny Weasley/Luna Lovegood - Yellow/Play

> Title: Another Life  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A

“Girls, why don’t you run outside and play?”

Ginny and Luna wasted no time dashing out the door and down to the stream. Since Ginny was the only girl in her family, she looked forward to these playdates with Luna. Not that they did particularly girly things, but it was nice to not get picked on or made fun of or be the brunt of her brothers’ jokes.

The rule was they had to stay outside until one of their mothers called them in, but neither minded. There was always something new to discover or explore in the garden or the fields around the Burrow and, most importantly, there were no boys, as Ginny’s mum insisted that her father bundle everyone off, so the ladies in the family could host Mrs. Lovegood and Luna for tea.

Her mother called it their “special time.” Once a month, after her father and the boys had left, her mother would hang up her apron and let her hair down. She’d even put on a spritz of perfume, and spray a little on Ginny, too.

“Sometimes grown women need the company of other grown women, Ginny.” She watched as her mother carefully applied lipstick to her lips. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

When Luna and Mrs. Lovegood arrived, her mother would kiss the other woman lightly on each cheek and clasp her hand, as if it hadn’t been just days since they had last seen each other. After all, the two girls played together often, but there were always others around, which is why this time was just for the ladies.

After Ginny and Luna ate their treats and began to fidget, bored with the gossip of adults, they would be released to run and play, leaving their mothers to talk about and do whatever things it was that grown women did.

Ginny and Luna were sure it was boring. After all, there was the time that Ginny got stung by a bee and ran back in the house to find her mother and Mrs. Lovegood lying together on the sofa, with their dresses ridden up.

Her mother had sat up, her face flushed. She’d straightened her dress and explained that the two of them had gotten tired and decided to take a nap. Then she healed Ginny’s sting and sent her on her way.

When it was nearly time for the others to return home, one of their mothers would call the girls in to say their goodbyes. In those moments, it seemed almost as difficult for the women to part as the girls. They’d linger in each other’s embrace, whispering between them.

Then, Ginny would then watch as her mother pinned up her hair once more, and donned her apron before starting on supper.

Her father would return with the boys in tow, bending down to kiss his wife.

“Have a nice tea, Mollywobbles?”

Her mother invariably answered with a sigh, “Oh, Arthur, some things just have to be endured.”


	7. Week 6 - Ron Weasley/Astoria Greengrass - White/Status

> Title: The White Queen  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500 of 500  
> Warnings: N/A

It had always been clear that Astoria Greengrass would marry not just any pureblood, but another member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It was what was expected, a duty she had been groomed for since birth.

She was a pawn, a minor player in the game of her own life.

In the face of her failed engagement, her father had been furious, her mother apoplectic.

And yet, Astoria had felt free.

Sort of.

Because while she no longer had to pretend to like Draco Malfoy, the expectation that she marry another member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight hadn’t changed.

Her parents had insisted on the match when everyone knew his heart belonged to another. They had been concerned with appearance and obedience, sure that tradition would carry the day. But what was obligation in the face of love?

In the midst of her parents’ conversation about whether the unexpectedly widowed Avery might take on their second daughter, Astoria slipped away to see the one person she thought might be able to help with her predicament.

It was an unexpected move: two steps forward, instead of waiting to be sacrificed. There was danger in stepping out, but also, opportunity.

“What do you want?”

Ron Weasley wasn’t in any mood to receive company, but she wasn’t here for pleasantries. She stepped inside before he could refuse.

“I thought we should talk.”

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?”

She sighed. Say what you want about women; in actuality, men were far moodier.

Ron was supposed to be the strategic one. He should recognize a gambit when he saw it, but it all remained too raw for him, and Astoria didn’t have the luxury of waiting for him to catch up.

Pawns could be seized at any moment; they were vulnerable, though they were also largely overlooked.

“I think we might be able to help each other.”

“How so?” He looked unimpressed with her parry.

“I’m still in need of a husband, and while an unconventional choice, you have the requisite pedigree. My parents have ideas of who else I should marry, but I intend to make my own choice.”

“Are you mental? You think I’d want to marry _you_?”

His face was red, a product of emotion, not logic. Feelings were an indulgence, however. She dealt in practicalities, strategic moves designed to produce the desired result.

If a pawn reached the other side of the board, they could do anything, be anything. She wanted that freedom and the key to achieving it sat just across from her.

“You should be interested because I come with something that Hermione Granger definitely didn’t.”

He scowled, “What’s that?”

“A dowry. One so big that we can live quite comfortably and you can do whatever it is that you want.”

At that, Ron sat up, having grasped what she was offering, and Astoria knew she’d been promoted. The details didn’t matter. She now held the power of self-determination.

She smiled at her future spouse.

Checkmate.


End file.
